


Truth

by mdr_24601



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: 75th Hunger Games, Canon Compliant, F/M, Interviews, POV Annie Cresta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 04:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdr_24601/pseuds/mdr_24601
Summary: Response to the prompt: Annie when Finnick proposes to her or when finnick professed his love for her during th cf interview maybe that speech would be incorporated? Requested by Anonymous on Tumblr.Annie watches Finnick's interview for the 75th Hunger Games.
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118231
Kudos: 7





	Truth

Annie’s hands worked adeptly at twisting and pulling the small piece of rope in her hands. She had been working with it for so long that the rope was beginning to leave imprints on her fingers, but she couldn’t stop fiddling with it. It was a trick Finnick had taught her ages ago; if you keep your hands busy, you won’t have time to fall apart. 

She thought she was perfectly capable of doing both at once. 

It was always lonely at home with Finnick gone, off in the Capitol. This time was worse, though. He would be going back into the arena tomorrow morning for the 75th Hunger Games, a tribute once again. The thought never failed to make bile rise in her throat. Annie shook her head as if that would do anything to clear the thought. She needed to focus on the upcoming interviews that would be playing any minute now. Finnick deserved that, at least. 

The television flickered to life, and Annie startled. 

Usually, she didn’t watch anything Games related on the television. Not the parade, not the interviews, and especially not the horrid arena itself, with the blood and the mutts and—

_ Not now _ , she reminded herself, clearing away the gruesome thoughts.  _ Focus on Finnick _ . 

When she looked at the television again, though, Finnick was not on it. District Three’s interviews were still going on, although the victors of Three were quiet and jittery and not very entertaining. 

Annie huffed a small laugh. She could relate to that. 

Mags went on next, though Caesar Flickerman couldn’t get much out of her. Annie’s eyes watered at the sight of her mentor, sitting where hundreds of tributes before had sat. Seeing the victors as tributes again was jarring, but the most alarming of all had to be Mags. 

Finally, her head snapped up again at the sound of Finnick’s voice. It was buttery smooth and calculated, every inflection perfectly measured. She knew that voice, but it wasn’t Finnick’s. Not really. Everything about this character on the television was fake and styled, from his combed hair to the smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Finnick,” Annie said anyway, because it was the closest to Finnick she was going to get. As if on cue, he smiled to the camera, and she entertained the idea that he was smiling in response to her saying his name. 

Caesar said something that Annie didn’t catch, and Finnick must have quipped back, because the crowd burst into laughter and applause. She watched him on screen, lounging in his chair, his posture open and relaxed. He didn’t really look comfortable, though. His fingers drummed restlessly on the arm rest, the way they did when he wanted out of a situation. His eye twitched, just a minuscule thing, and Annie was almost sure that she was the only one who noticed. 

“I have something I’d like to say, if that’s alright with you, Caesar,” Finnick spoke up, drawing her attention again. 

“Of course,” Caesar nodded, leaning in. “Go right ahead.”

Then, it was as if every bit of Finnick softened, just a little. The mask slipped away, and although he still looked the part of a Capitol citizen, there was a certain relaxedness to his smile. “My love,” he began, voice oddly scratchy, and Annie knew he could only be talking to her. “You have my heart for all eternity. And if—” his voice broke again, “if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.”

Through the television screen, she could hear the crowd quiet into a gentle lull. Annie’s eyes watered. “Finnick,” she whispered, reaching out so her hand rested on the television screen, directly where Finnick’s body appeared. She pulled away as the screen changed to the female from Five. 

She glanced down at the rope in her hands again, not bothering to pay attention to the rest of the interviews. Finnick had spoken to her. Despite everything keeping them apart, he had found a way to give her a message. The Capitol would perceive it differently, she knew, but that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was that she and Finnick had each other, so they were going to be okay. 


End file.
